Foreplay
by thesilverhaireddevil
Summary: Kazuya is alive again, and shows up at Lee's Bahamas compound. After being dead for twenty years, they're both having a hard time adjusting. They decide to settle their differences over a game of golf. Set just after Tekken 4.


Kazuya Mishima stared out at the lush splendour of the golf course and frowned.

After defeating his brother at the fourth tournament, he'd tracked him back to the Bahamas. Lee had agreed to let him in, mostly out of curiosity, and they'd spent the evening prowling around each other suspiciously. Kazuya had been dead twenty years, and Lee had accepted that and moved on. It was quite a shock for Kazuya to see how well Lee was doing for himself outside the Zaibatsu.

That insolent fool had built quite a business for himself.

Sure, Lee's fighting robots were laughably simplistic and riddled with bugs after being rushed to manufacturing too quickly. In time, however, they might come to challenge G Corporation's own Jack series…if Lee knuckled down and took the task seriously. He had always been brilliant, but lazy, and that didn't appear to have changed much.

When they'd met at the tournament, Lee had been in disguise as Violet, a mysterious eccentric industrialist with bright purple hair and clothes, who always wore sunglasses and spoke English. Kazuya had realised exactly who he was the first time he watched him fight. It was Lee, albeit a much improved Lee; stronger, faster and fiercer.

None of these attributes could make up for the shock he'd received after meeting his brother in the tournament. He'd lost his focus, and Kazuya had beaten him easily, enjoying the look on that pretty face as he'd snapped the sunglasses with a well-timed uppercut. He'd left him sprawled there on the ground, purple hair dripping blood into those eyes, without a word.

Of course, he hadn't been finished with Lee. He'd ordered his team at G Corporation to get everything they could find on his life, and, a couple of weeks after the tournament had ended, he went to Lee's home himself.

He had frightened Lee at first, he knew. The red eye, the extra scars and the innate wrongness of his resurrection had that effect. Yet that first evening, as Lee turned to hand him a glass of whiskey, he'd caught Kazuya's eye and murmured "You really don't change much, do you Kazuya?"

Granted, Kazuya _had_ just finished a lengthy rant on the subject of Heihachi at the time. Yet Lee had always been able to look right through to the core of him. During his worst and most vulnerable moments, Lee had been there, and he had understood. Despite their rivalry, Lee was the one who understood and accepted him, in all his wrongness, and that was worth more to Kazuya than he could ever admit.

Alcohol had bridged some of the distance, and, after a few drinks, Kazuya's inhibitions. He'd kissed Lee, curling his hands into the silver hair possessively. Lee had frozen at first, caught off guard, then had gradually relaxed into it, but it was still unfamiliar. It wasn't like the old days. Lee felt the same, he smelled the same, he even _looked _much the same – but the distance hung between them, with none of the easy intimacy of the past. Even when they'd been at the Zaibatsu, hating each other and the world, the gap hadn't existed between them.

Kazuya had pulled back. Lee protested.

"You have to understand – it's been a lot to deal with."

"I was dead," Kazuya said simply. "I was _dead_ for twenty years, and you think it's hard for you?"

Lee flushed. "That's not what I said."

Kazuya stood up. "It was a bad idea for me to come. You're still as stupid as you always were. You have no idea."

"Wait!"

Lee's fingers held his arm. He stared at Kazuya, eyes taking in the red eye, the scars, the frown.

"I need some time."

"I'm going."

"Kazzy," his voice dropped slightly, using the old nickname from childhood, "I missed you."

Kazuya had never been able to resist that tone.

So he had stayed. Lee had decided that they needed to spend time together, get used to the whole "being alive" thing. Attempt to re-establish a normalcy that had never really existed for them.

Hence, golf.

Kazuya had never cared for golf. He was a fighter, and nothing in the world felt better than forcing an opponent to submit to your iron will, to see the defeated look in their eyes as you made them completely helpless. What was golf, except a toy game for bored businessmen? He had never been a patient man, and the thought of spending four hours walking around slowly with Lee whacking non-human things slowly and precisely was unacceptable.

All this paled in comparison to the clothes, however. Naturally, Kazuya didn't have any golf clothes with him, so Lee had insisted on lending him some. They'd always been the same shoe size, so that was no problem, but the clothes were quite another. Lee had gained significant muscle, but his clothes were still slightly tight on Kazuya. That was far from the worst part, though.

Kazuya stared back at his reflection, completely and utterly lost for words. Lee knocked, and entered the room. He looked Kazuya up and down and his smile widened, admiring his handiwork.

Kazuya was wearing a dark purple polo shirt, which stretched tightly over his arms and broad shoulders. The trousers Lee had found for him were a matching pair of dark purple check golf trousers, made for Lee personally. They clung to his hips and muscular arse tightly, and Kazuya felt incredibly exposed. Used to wearing gi pants or his own tailored suits, he was completely uncomfortable and told Lee so.

"Couldn't I just wear my own clothes? These are too tight."

"No!" Lee snapped. "My course has a very strict dress code, which must be adhered to at all times."

Lee was wearing a dark blue polo shirt with the collar up and a pair of looser beige shorts. He had propped a pair of sunglasses on his head, holding back the silver hair, while he examined Kazuya.

"Fuck this," Kazuya declared, and made to pull his own polo shirt off.

Lee's hands caught his wrists and held them.

"You're missing the point here, brother."

"That even twenty years later, you still dress like shit?"

Lee smiled. "No." He dropped Kazuya's wrists and closed the distance between them.

"That you'll easily win this golf match, because I'll be far too distracted by you in _those_ to concentrate on my game."

His hands slipped down, fondled Kazuya's arse roughly. Lee said nothing, and watched his face.

"Are we playing?"

"Yes," Kazuya spat. His brother still understood his weakness too well, and was still merciless when it came to using it against him.

Now he was waiting on Lee to emerge from the clubhouse with his caddy. Lee had plenty of staff, but Kazuya didn't see why they needed one of them there to haul around their clubs.

The door opened, and Lee strode out to the first tee, followed by a Combot model. The Combot was wearing a clear visor, as it obediently carried Lee's clubs under its arm.

"I hope you don't mind…I felt Combot would be a more _appropriate _chaperone," Lee smirked. Kazuya rolled his eyes. He would not be provoked by Lee today, no matter how great the temptation. Combot picked up Kazuya's clubs and toddled forward, eyes flashing.

Lee lowered his silver-framed sunglasses and rummaged in the front compartment of his bag for golf balls. He rubbed them back and forth on his shorts briefly, and tossed Kazuya one. Kazuya caught it, and turned it over in his hand, frowning down at it. It had a purple unicorn on it.

"First hole is three strokes, usually doable in two." The fairway stretched out in front of them, and the little red flag at the hole was clearly visible.

Kazuya sighed.

"Have you ever even played golf, Kazuya?"

"A couple of times…but not since I was running the Zaibatsu."

"Well then, you'll need a bit of practice with your stance then."

"Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes," Lee insisted. "Come on, you might even enjoy it!" He reached into Kazuya's golf bag, which Combot patiently held aloft, and withdrew a driver. Kazuya took it grudgingly. Lee bent down to place a ball on the tee, and Kazuya briefly admired the view the shorts afforded him. Straightening up, Lee walked over to him.

"Stance is so important when you're teeing off," he said. He moved directly behind Kazuya. Slipping his arms around him, he gripped the driver, and gently moved Kazuya's hands, until they were repositioned correctly on the driver. Lee slid his hands up the backs of Kazuya's arms and held them there briefly, whispering, "You need to move your feet about this width apart."

Lee moved away and surveyed his work.

"Hmmm, you still look a bit uncomfortable but it'll have to do, I suppose."

He moved behind Kazuya again.

"Finally, you need to bend over right at this angle," his hands pushed Kazuya's back down gently, forcing his arse to rub into Lee's crotch, "and take it from there."

He pushed briefly against Kazuya, and moved away to his own tee.

"Watch this," he said, and struck a sweet shot straight through the air onto the green.

Kazuya wasn't paying attention. He could only think that he had been wrong when he thought the trousers couldn't get any tighter.

Lee turned back with a bright smile on his face. He pushed his sunglasses up, and took in Kazuya. His delight was positively evil.

"Now, let's see if you can beat that!"

Kazuya swung, and his ball veered off to the left, into a bunker.

"Oh dear," Lee laughed. "Looks like you'll have to go and find it."

Kazuya briefly fantasised about transforming into Devil and burning the smile right off that pretty face, but that would only spoil his own fun. Instead, he grumbled and strode off for the bunker, keenly aware of Lee's eyes burning a hole in the tight checked fabric.

Fifteen holes later, Lee was only winning by two shots. Admittedly this had much to do with his insistence on showing Kazuya how to use all the clubs, and how to play a particular shot. He was nothing if not generous.

"Do you do this with all the businessmen you bring here?" Kazuya had panted, after Lee had demonstrated the correct way to escape the rough on the tenth hole with rather more grinding than seemed necessary.

"Only the attractive ones."

Combot trudged dutifully behind them, obediently responding to Lee's every command.

Kazuya's competitive spirit had emerged fully, and now he narrowed his eyes and looked for the flag on the green. Striking the ball, it sailed high and straight, and dropped onto the green three inches from the flag.

Lee whistled. His own shot was good, but it landed half a foot away from the flag. Kazuya made no effort to hide the smirk on his face.

Lee drew his eyebrows together in a frown. "Don't get any ideas here. You have no chance of winning."

They walked to the green, and Kazuya took his place by his ball. Sliding a putter out of his bag, he bent his back and eyed the short distance to the hole. Lee lifted the flag from the hole and held it there. It was imperative that he put Kazuya off. Lee cast a burning, intense stare at his brother. A little eyefucking could usually put even the most stoic golfer off their game.

Kazuya didn't look up, and tapped the ball easily into the hole.

"Fuck," Lee cursed under his breath. He took his own shot, and missed. His second shot was better, but the ball skittered over the rim of the hole before eventually dropping in.

"You seem rattled," Kazuya said from right behind him. Lee gasped as Kazuya brushed his earlobe with his lips briefly, before clapping him on the back soundly.

"Two holes left and one shot in it – are you still certain of victory?"

"Yes!" Lee gritted out, fully annoyed, and trying to block out the feelings Kazuya's touch had aroused in him. They moved on to the seventeenth hole, where Kazuya closed the gap between them with a superb chip from the edge of the green.

They approached the last hole and stared at it from the tee. Kazuya by now had forgotten all about the tightness of the trousers, which were now clinging to him even more after three hours in 90% humidity. Lee, however, couldn't. He cursed himself for playing with Kazuya too much. It was as though he'd forgotten. He _had_ forgotten, hadn't he? He'd been so used to toying with wealthy executives, cruelly tossing them aside after they'd taken his cock and signed his contracts, he'd forgotten what a _real_ challenge was like.

He'd missed it.

"Let's make this interesting," he announced. Kazuya looked at him with an expression of mild interest.

"Go on."

"You win, you get to fuck me. I win, I fuck you."

Kazuya smirked darkly. Some things really hadn't changed. He was glad of it.

"Fine."

Lee regarded him silently from behind his sunglasses for a moment, and stepped up to the tee. His drive was perfect, soaring and dropping right onto the green, five inches from the flag. Behind him, Kazuya cursed. His own shot, however, was superb, and landed just beside Lee's, dislodging it and knocking it further away from the flag.

Lee's triumphant smile froze on his face. _Fuck_!

Kazuya laughed darkly, sweeping past him on his way to the green.

They stood there, measuring the shots, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Finally, Lee took his putter in hand. Kazuya took the flag from the hole, and crouched down beside it, eyes on Lee's shot. Lee paused, repositioned himself, swung and missed. Kazuya didn't say anything but his eyes were triumphant. In a flash, Lee remembered that look and it made him shiver with anticipation. All of a sudden, he no longer cared about the game.

Kazuya's concentration was shaky, but he was determined to win now. Lowering his dark head, he focused on the ball and keeping his hands steady for the shot. Lee hovered on the edge of his vision, silvery and distracting. There would be time for that later. He repositioned his grip, and gently tapped the ball with his putter.

The ball rolled over the hole and settled less than a centimetre from it.

He looked up and met Lee's eyes. Before Lee could move, Kazuya had kicked his ball into the hole. He scooped up Lee's own ball and flung it into the trees. Combot went clanking after it.

"I win," Kazuya declared, and his look was so unashamedly carnal that Lee's protest died in his throat.

"So," Kazuya continued casually, "do you have any lube in that bag?"

Lee smirked. "You know me too well, I'm afraid, but I'd rather you collected your winnings at the house."

"Don't feel like waiting," Kazuya breathed, moving closer to him.

"You might if you saw the nice collection of restraints I have, which I'm sure you could put to good use."

He paused, and continued with an innocent tone.

"You still like that, don't you, tying people up and making them beg for your cock?"

Kazuya's gaze burned. On this occasion, he supposed, he could wait for a few more minutes.

Lee smiled, and they set off for the house.


End file.
